Salt clung to Rafael's lips as he sat in the sand, stunned.
Waves rolled in, violet and slow, foaming as if the ocean itself was unsure of reality. A crisp breeze stirred his cropped, dark hair, and nearby, a rusted fishing pole jutted from the surf. The sky above was blushing lavender, pierced with sun still low in the horizon.
It was morning. Somewhere. Sometime.
He looked down.
Smaller hands. Smooth. Unscarred. No weapon calluses. The loose fisherman's tunic he wore hung too large over a much younger body. His heart pounded against a chest that hadn't yet learned what true fear tasted like.
"...No," he muttered.
The System's message was burned into his memory:
[TRIAL FAILED. REBOOTING SYSTEM.]
[YOU HAVE BEEN RETURNED TO STARTING WORLD: VERIDIA, TIMESTAMP: -15 YEARS.]
[SYSTEM ACCESS SEALED UNTIL REAWAKENING CONDITIONS ARE MET.]
He stood slowly. Every part of him screamed at the wrongness of it. The hut. The fishing rod. The bark of the dog he knew would come sprinting from the tree line in three... two—
"Yap yap yap!"
A stubby mutt with one floppy ear and the energy of a small hurricane bolted down the dunes and tackled him. Rafael stumbled, the wind knocked out of him, and laughed. Actually laughed.
"You're still alive, you dumb mutt."
The dog barked louder in approval, licking at his face.
He pushed it away, grinning against the stab of grief he hadn't realized he'd buried under lifetimes of war. That yelp, that wet nose—it felt so far away, like a dream pulled from a dying star.
Rafael sat there for a long while, running his fingers through the coarse fur, anchoring himself to the now. The dog, still called Disaster, eventually flopped beside him, panting contentedly.
"Fifteen years," Rafael whispered. "Fifteen goddamn years."
***
The village came into view over the ridge. Rafael stopped to look at it like a stranger. The wooden fences. The chipped cobblestone paths. The marketplace that hadn't yet burned in a raid. The fields still green. Children played. Adults bickered. Everything still had time.
A merchant passed him with a lazy nod. Rafael returned it, dazed.
This was Veridia before it all fell apart. Before his village was swallowed by rogue rifts. Before he was drafted into the Reality Fracture Corps. Before the horrors, the betrayals, the trials—before Brick. Before Lira. Before Beatrice. Before Juno. Before he became... whatever he had become.
He saw familiar faces untouched by grief. Kids he remembered carrying coffins. Elders who would later beg for mercy they never got. Rafael's stomach churned.
He wandered into the town square, marveling at its simplicity. A fruit vendor argued with a haggle-hardened woman over the price of bananas. A blacksmith's apprentice flirted awkwardly with the baker's daughter. A dog barked at a chicken. Life.
No monsters. No collapsing realities. Not yet. Just life.
***
Back at the old hut, his guardian hadn't changed. Not yet.
Old Marro stood over a cauldron, humming a terrible tune as he stirred something that probably didn't need to boil. Rafael lingered in the doorway.
Marro looked up. "Well, look who's finally up. Catch anything this morning, or were you napping like a kelp-drenched walrus again?"
Rafael blinked. That voice. That tone. Untouched by the death that would come. His eyes stung.
"...Yeah," he managed. "Caught something."
Marro grunted. "Good. Gonna need your help today. That dimensional hole out in the marsh? Starting to shimmer weird again."
Rafael stiffened. "Already?"
"You make it sound like that's a surprise. This world was always weird. You just didn't notice it before."
Rafael stared at him, wondering if he could warn Marro. Warn anyone. But what would he say? 'I'm from fifteen years in the future, and you all die unless I do everything exactly right this time?'
No. That was a conversation for another day. Or never.
He helped chop wood for the fire. Ate bitter stew for lunch. Listened to Marro ramble about the marsh spirits. The normalcy of it felt alien.
***
That night, Rafael sat alone atop the bluff that overlooked the ocean. The dog curled up at his side. He held a smooth stone in his hand, absently turning it.
"I failed them all," he said aloud. "Juno, Dasha, Beatrice, Clara, Lira, Brick... Calyx. I got us killed. I'm sorry."
He closed his eyes. Let the waves speak for a moment.
He hadn't just failed the trial.
He'd failed the future. But this time, he had knowledge. He remember what should be remembered.
The scars were gone, but the pain was buried in his bones. In this loop, he suddenly remembered how this world unraveled. Where the first rift appeared. Who would try to weaponize it. Which friends would become enemies. Which lies mattered.
He remembered the little things too—like how to survive a Shardwolf ambush with only two pebbles and an apple. How to disarm a crimson relic trap using swamp slime and a prayer. How not to trust the man in white with no shadow.
He could do it again.
He would do it again.
But better.
He would find them—his old allies. His found family. He would keep them alive.
This time, they'd win.
[Narrated by the outer entity named S*****r]
[Or not?]
***
[SYSTEM: A fragment of memory refuses to fade.]
A flicker of data flashed behind his eyes—a glitchy outline of Beatrice laughing, Brick swinging his hammer, Juno's blade shimmering in dim light. Ghosts.
[Emotional bond registered. Unlock condition updated.]
[You must gather your party before access is restored.]
Rafael smiled.
"Fine. Let's do this again. Let's reboot the apocalypse."
He rose, dusted off his tunic, and whistled for the dog.
"C'mon, Disaster. We've got fifteen years to save the world."
As the stars began to blink awake in the twilight sky, Rafael's eyes held not just sorrow—but purpose.
***